One had taken the necklace and the other had wagered he would carry it six months in America before returning it to its owner.

The Nana Sahib's ruby she attributed to a real thief, who had known Crawford in former days and, conscience-stricken, had returned it.
Great Britain was an empire of wagerers she knew; they wagered for and against every conceivable thing which had its dependence on chance.
That first night on board the Celtic, when Thomas came to her cabin in the dark, she had recognized his voice.

In the light the activity of the eye had dulled the keenness of the ear; but in the dark the ear had found the chord.

For days she had been subconsciously waiting to hear one or the other of those voices; and Thomas' had come with a shock.
The words "Aeneid" and "Enid" had so little variation in sound between them that Kitty had found her second man in Lord Monckton.

Sooner or later she would trap them.
"Would you like to go to the picnic this afternoon ?"--with a spirit which was wholly kind.
"Very much indeed; but I can't"-- indicating the stack of papers on his desk.
"Oh," listlessly.
"I am very poor, Miss Killigrew, and perhaps I am ambitious." Her lips parted expectantly.
"Your father has promised to give me a chance on his coffee plantations in Brazil this autumn, and I wish to show him that I know how to grind.
Plug, isn't that the American for it ?" He smiled across the desk.